


A Companion Piece

by Phillidore



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/M, Victorian, Victorian John Watson, Victorian Sherlock Holmes, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phillidore/pseuds/Phillidore
Summary: Miss Violet Tyler was a young gentlewoman of but 21 years, when she moved to London with her family.Biding her time with running errands and looking out for her many younger siblings she encounters a mystery while at a friends house for afternoon tea.This is not a story about an overly independent or modern woman.This is merely the story of a young gentlewoman, new to city and society, living her life and meeting companions and friends that might stay for a lifetime.
Relationships: John Watson & Sherlock Holmes, John Watson/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s) & Original Male Charcter(s), Sherlock Holmes & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

I hope that you – my dear readers – will not be disappointed upon discovering that I am indeed a woman. 

I felt it was time for a story such as this to be written. 

The man I felt the dire need to tell you – my dear readers – about, generally spends most of his time writing about someone else. 

This someone you might have heard about some time or another, as he is the well known Masterdetective Sherlock Holmes. 

And as some of you might have guessed, the man I am referring to is none other than Dr. John H. Watson.

The first time I met Dr. Watson it was indeed not as the friend of the detective, but rather in his occupation as a medical man.   
One of my brothers was often suffering colds and other lighter illnesses since we had moved to the city, and my parents had decided it should be me who should take him to the doctors.   
Dr. Watson had proven to be a very nice man, who did not only know his profession well, but also showed a genuine interest in the people he was treating.   
He told my younger brother that it was not unheard of to be sickly after moving to the city after growing up in the country – as he himself had had that problem some years before. 

Our interaction had been limited to pleasantries and the exchange of the most important information.   
And after meeting him here, I should meet him again several more times in exactly the same way, bringing one of my siblings to see Dr. Watson in his practice. 

My family was big, and I was the second eldest child and oldest daughter of a horde of now nine children.   
We were five girls and four boys and quite the rowdy family, which had been fine in the countryside, but as father had found a good position in the city and had not wanted to be separated from all of us for longer than he had to be, we all moved with him. 

At the age of 21 I was often trusted with errands that usually would have been taken care of by my mother, but as she had a bunch of other children to worry about, among other things, I was now entrusted with escorting my siblings to the doctors and picking up anything that my mother did not trust the servants with.

Thus, it came to be that I was supposed to be picking up some new and some altered garments for my mother and had agreed to meet with a friend at her parents’ house after running my errands.   
When I arrived at my friends’ house, everything seemed perfectly normal.   
The servants were going about their duties, Margaret’s parents were not there, and she and I were having tea in the smaller, blue and oaken-furnished sitting room. 

As we were exchanging the newest gossip and even some thoughts on topics such as sport, we were not expecting to hear the loud crash that suddenly sounded.   
So loud that the vibrations of it seemed to cut right through some nerve endings.   
I had been on the hunt with my dear father many times before, and I had grown up in the country side, so I could tell immediately that it had been a gunshot. 

Knowing this, I moved past Margaret and signalled her she should stay behind me for now. 

When I opened the door to the corridore the first thing I saw was blood. It was on the floor, it was on the door and it was splattered on the wall.

Then I saw the body – it was the valet. 

There was no gun anywhere near him. 

After this, the events become rather blurred: the police was called, Margaret nearly fainted and the police apparently were unable of making any sense of what they were seeing, as before they even interviewed us, another car arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

Then I saw the body – it was the valet. 

There was no gun anywhere near him. 

After this, the events become rather blurred: the police was called, Margaret nearly fainted and the police apparently were unable of making any sense of what they were seeing, as before they even interviewed us, another car arrived. 

As we found out rather quickly, it was Mr. Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr. Watson.

As they were questioning the staff and I was still trying to calm down my friend, I was trying to make sense of what had happened.

It seemed to be very easy, but so very complex at the same time. 

But so did every death. 

It was a thing I had seen often: dead animals were not a seldom thing in the countryside and in the small community we had lived in we had come across death rather often. I was not in shock. 

This proves to be a good explanation, why I was calm, even when the gentlemen had questioned the whole staff, and were now coming over to talk to us.   
I could already tell that Margaret wasn’t as calm. 

Mr. Holmes seemed cool in comparison to all the other people in the room. 

His mimic just seemed to be miniscule and fleeting, but undoubtedly existant. 

Dr. Watson seemed to have to think for a moment, but when he was able to finally place me, he exclamed “Miss Tyler, that is indeed you!” which made some of the servants look up, and certainly seemed to give Maragaret a new thing to contemplate, as her look changed ever so slightly and now indicated that we would talk about this at a later date. 

I returned the Doctors’ smile briefly and nodded “yes, indeed it is Dr. Watson”. 

Holmes now looked at his friend, who seemed to understand him as well as I understood Margaret and explained: “Miss Tyler brings her siblings to my practice whenever they are a little under the weather. 

Though“ he now turned back to me “I did not know, you were aquainted with Miss Davenport, Miss Tyler”. 

I nodded again “yes, Margaret and I have known eachother for years, ever since she visited an aunt of hers who is also a friend of my family’s.” 

Trying to be more sensible in the current situation I added “But this is something we should really not discuss, while there is a murderer to be found”. 

The gentlemen now both looked at me with interest and the doctor then finally asked how I knew that this horrible occurrence had to be a murder, to which I answered: ”There was blood everywhere when we opened the door, the shot had come from someone standing in front of the victim, and there was no gun to be seen anywhere near, so someone must have been there and must have taken the gun away with them”. 

All eyes were on me now. 

Margaret looked at me with knowledge – she had known before that I was well aquainted with guns and the subject of death – Mr. Holmes looked at me, as if to calculate all possible risks and problems I might bring with me, should the gentlemen come across me again. 

The doctor though, looked at me with a wonder that I had not expected to be directed towards me. 

Usually people had to try and hide their disgust at meeting a woman with a well-nourished intellect, but not the doctor. 

His eyes were full of wonder, his lips formed a smile and he seemed to find such a great delight in my observations that it even brought a smile to my lips. 

Finally, he let out a delighted laugh “My dear Miss Tyler, that you should notice such things”. 

His friend looked at me critically now and with a raised eyebrow asked me “And how should we know that you do not have this knowledge, because you killed the man yourself?” 

I knew, he meant to bring me out of my concept right now, but I remained as calm as before. 

“Is that not your area of expertise, Mr. Holmes? Should you not be the best person to answer that question, as I am rather sure you already have several reasons at hand.” 

Now, even the detective smiled lightly and nodded courtly, turning his interest to interviewing my friend. 

The doctor started making some notes while listening to Margaret explaining what had happened before. 

Though he kept looking at me in between listening and writing down my friends account of the previous happenings. 

I was puzzled by this. 

People did not usually react like this at seeing my knowledge and lacking fright of things such as death. 

Especially in the city the people seemed to be awfully shocked at this sort of discovery. 

The doctors’ reaction made me rather wish to find out more about this man. 

I knew some things of course, but only as much as he wrote about himself in the accounts of his adventures with Mr. Holmes. 

If one added to that the little tidbits of information that I had learned about him as I he was treating one of my siblings, I still did not really know anything personal about the man himself.


End file.
